Tides of time
by Lynx Traveller
Summary: Everyone wants him dead, but how does the Typhoon feel about his existence? (my first Trigun fic so please be kind and review.)


Disclaimer: I don't own Trigun, so don't sue me.

A/N. this is the first Trigun fic that I've attempted. We finished watching the series about a month ago and I've been kicking something like this around for a few weeks now, but our anime club went to an anime convention on the weekend. Seeing one of our guys cosplaying as a very convincing Wolfwood and dragging a 7 ft cross around standing in the one spot for about half an hour alongside a very good Vash and Millie while people got photos (they didn't know each other… total strangers.) hardened my resolve to get this done.

Probably didn't turn out quite the way that I'd planned, but it's been several weeks now before I've touched the word processor so I'm a little rusty.

Anyway, I'd better get on with it eh?

BTW, I know that REM was occasionally called LEM. I'm not sure which is the accepted way here so if I got it wrong no flames eh?

………

I sit here in silence…

They call me The Stampede. The Humanoid Typhoon.

I just want to be called Vash.

To them I'm a murderer, and now I guess I am, but I tried so hard and for so long not to be that way. Even though everyone thought that way of me, I at least knew the truth. At least my conscience was clear.

I've tried all my life to run from who I am, and sometimes even to hide.

But it always catches up with me.

Everywhere I go destruction follows. Upstart bounty hunters, those that for some reason think that where everyone else has failed that they will somehow succeed. Those that use my name to gain power and false respect.

I just want to be left alone.

I didn't ask to be created. It's not my fault that I'm different, but I can see how it came about.

The plants had always been fragile.

I found out later that the beings inside the plants were originally human, but they'd been genetically modified over generations before the Seeds left Earth so that they could be used as a power source.

The side effect being that they could no longer exist in this world.

I don't know why they started experimenting, but Knives and I were created as a way of seeing if the plant beings could sustain their existence outside their protective glass, in case they ever broke.

I miss REM, and I thank her for being the only one that bothered to care about us.

But sometimes I wonder if it wouldn't have been easier if the both of us had died.

Knives was right; the scars that I wear won't ever heal. Part of me doesn't want them to; I welcome the constant burning pain because it reminds me of who I am, of what I've done.

Sometimes I've just thought of giving it all up, of settling down somewhere in some backwards hole where I'll never be bothered again.

But I can't bear the thought of never growing old. Of having to watch those around me grow old and die.

I know that Legato wasn't really my fault, but it was my arm that gave him that power.

Every day I wonder if I'd just shot it off… he'd have hopefully become harmless, and even if not he'd have lost his mental hold on the gunmen; the girls would have lived.

But the risk that it wouldn't was too great. I knew that I had to take him down. It was a bad call either way.

And now his blood has stained my hands.

Then there was the last forgotten technology ship to crash. They'd lived their whole lives deliberately avoiding contact from the ground dwellers, and in one single action I let my demons change their lives. 

It wasn't my gun that killed them, but it was still my hands that were responsible.

So many people would have been happier if I hadn't been born.

"There you are Vash."  
"Oh, hi Millie."

"You got away from us again. Merrill's in the town getting supplies."

I know that the girls are putting themselves in danger by following me, but deep down I thank them. Knowing that I have friends that are willing to stick by me regardless makes it all seem worth it in some small way.

I just don't want them to wind up like Wolfwood.

Knives was right, it is them or us. But when it really comes down to it, is our existence really worth it?  
Ah, here comes Merrill. Arms loaded with food and an expression of long-suffering tolerance.

Derringer Merrill. I guess that I'm not the only one that has to live with a reputation.

Seeing the girls reminds me that there's more to life than pain and death. 

I know that suffering follows me like a bad smell. I rarely let myself see it but Millie is right; I do try to help those that I meet.

I could give up and let them get on with their lives without me, but then where would all those people that I helped be?  
Maybe. Just maybe, there is light at the end of the tunnel. One day I'll wake up and everything will be normal.

But until then I'll endeavour to do what I can. If it's my place in life to be a white knight then that's what I'll be to those that need one.

………

Well, what'd you think? Leave a review and tell me. I live on reviews; it's always encouraging to know that people are actually reading and liking (or not) enough to leave a mark.


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